


Domestic Blisses.

by One_Real_Imonkey



Series: Twisted Memories AU [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Comfort Food, Cooking, Dancing, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, I know, Mand'alor Jango Fett, No Angst, Protective Jango Fett, Reading, Rid'alor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sharing Clothes, Singing, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Jango Fett, Soft Obi-Wan Kenobi, court sessions, it's astounding, ship maintenance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29747676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Real_Imonkey/pseuds/One_Real_Imonkey
Summary: A series of short fluffy romantic snippets with Jango and his riduur, Obi-Wan during their married life as they balance a clan, their duties and their love for one another.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Twisted Memories AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146377
Comments: 10
Kudos: 180





	Domestic Blisses.

**Author's Note:**

> What's this, a story in this AU with 0 angst? It can't be. It is.  
> I don't own Star Wars.  
> Please enjoy.

Jango liked the ship he’d picked up. 

A  firespray he’d jokingly called the Slave 1, a pun that seemed to go over a lot of heads, unfortunately.

The slaves won on  Crahbati , after all.

But damn if the ship didn’t have some pretty major faults before it would be able to fly safely, and he definitely wanted a safe ship, if he was going to be flying with his  riduur . Well, if his  riduur decided to come with him and leave the  Jetiise , or if he wanted to travel without the  Jetiise ?

He wanted a very safe ship for his most beloved person.

The only person he even had.

Hilariously, when it came to giving a  riduur a safe ship, Obi-Wan head decided on the same thing.

Decided that if Jango was going to be galivanting around the galaxy, he needed a reliable ship.

Jango wasn’t arguing when it meant he got to see his  riduur topless and sweaty and covered in oil and  grease .

There was no-one really around, and even if there was, slaves had seen worse in their lives.

He could press his  riduur against the bulkhead or find somewhere inside the ship maybe down in the engine areas, prove how much he loved him.

Or he could sit back and watch, because damn it was hard to work when he was with someone so beautiful and  breath-taking .

And as in love with him as he was with them.

He was so lucky, so  so lucky. For the first time in years he was safe, he was happy, he was getting a chance to live again.

He was alive again.

.

.

.

The sun breached the curtains, and while the shift in light was minimal, it was enough to wake them both.

“Moooorning love.”

“Morning cyar’ika.”

Obi-Wan didn’t move, one arm thrown over Jango’s chest, his face pressed into the gap between the pillows and Jango’s hair. It was heaven.

The hair moved slightly as Jango pressed a kiss to his temple.

“ Ughh , do I have to move?”

“Depends, mesh’la, what do you have to do today?”

“Advanced  Soresu at 10-12, umm, meditation with Master Windu on the focusing of prescience from 2-5 and uhh, actually I think that’s it for today. You?”

“Meetings with Myles and the other al’verde, uhh, ‘court’ as he keeps putting it from 11-1:30 and a meeting with and a ‘state dinner’ again Myles words, this evening. Will you be joining me?”

“That almost sounds like begging.”

“I cannot do another dinner like this. Half of them want me to retake  Mandalore , half of them understand that we can’t, it’s a  nightmare .”

“Well, it’s a proper Mandalorian dinner or, well, my Master’s cooking.”

“Now who’s begging?”

Obi-Wan shifted his hips to get deeper into the warmth Jango gave off, pressing his face into the joint between Jango’s neck and shoulder.

“Gotta get time with you. Our schedules always clash.”

“Only a little while longer  til you’re a Knight.”

Obi-Wan hummed, letting Jango nuzzle his face into his hair while his hands started tracing soft patterns down his back.

“Then I get missions that last months instead of weeks. Yaaaay.”

“I can wait months for you if I have to. Just always come back to me.”

“Says the bounty hunter.”

“One when together, one when apart. You swore it. No take backs.”

“No take backs? You’re a child, you know that?”

.

.

.

Their schedules clashed frequently, too frequently, but occasionally within all the hubbub and mayhem of their lives, they got to take an evening alone.

To sit on the sofa and tangle their feet, with books or a movie or tv, something calm and peaceful and theirs.

Jango was the Mand’alor, he had to be there for his people and his community, meetings and battle plans and trials and all of it.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi, he had to be in service of the entire galaxy, to every person before himself, and also to his people.

Despite their vows and their marriage and every stolen moment, said moments felt few and far between. There was always someone or something that needed their help, but sometimes, sometimes they got an evening on their own, they got to sleep together, instead of in the homes of their own peoples.

But people would think it was marathon sex or whatever kingly activities the Alor and Rid’Alor would get up to, they both doubted that either of their people would expect quiet nights where they sat and did nothing but be close.

Well, actually, Jango was pretty sure some of them would. After all, romance was important to  Mandalorians , not just in the oaths and the weddings, but how you courted someone, how you spent your time. For the  riduurok to be binding, it must be born of love, real and true, and that love must be maintained. Relationships needed work, they didn’t just happen.

So yes, Jango was pretty sure his people would believe they did little more than snuggle up and watch a movie some  evenings , or sit and read in the peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet could be so hard to come by.

Ok, yeah, some of those evenings ended in sex, a lot of them, but that wasn’t the important part.

The important part was getting to be together, was getting to be,  Ka’ra help him, domestic.

.

.

.

Tingilar was important in many ways. Culturally, communally,  competitively .

Romantically.

To make a meal for your partner, it had great meaning. 

It had great meaning in many places, but oh did Jango love it.

He loved cooking, actually. 

When he’d been ‘helping’ Arla and his first  Buire , when he’d been with  Jas’Buir , who’d taught him this recipe.

Kriff, he’d spent so long in slavery certain he’d never have a riduur, let alone being in a position to teach them his Jas’Buir’s tingilar. To cook it for him.

To have his  riduur singing Force-awful pop songs in a force-awful tone despite Jango knowing he was in fact very skilled at singing.

The brilliant smile he was offered when he laughed and joined in. The dancing and swaying together or apart as they moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables or the mixing of sauces, all of it. 

Singing and dancing and laughing.

“I just  wanna dance with you, my heart’s on fire, pure desire.” Obi-Wan hollered.

Jango joined with the same  vigour , swaying his hips as he stirred the stew.

“Please, my lover, dance along, an endless song, together...”

Obi-Wan joined him finishing the line together,

“Til the end of time.”

Obi-Wan came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jango’s and placing his head on Jango’s shoulder.

“I, just  wanna hold you, be your light in the darkness and your path right through the storm.”

“Please,” he took his line pressing their heads together, “my lover, see me, trust me in the night, until the morning light...”

“Until the end of time.”

He picked up a slice of the  Concordian red pepper and pressed it to his  riduur’s lips, taking great pleasure in watching him take it between his teeth, the juice dripping onto his lips with the bite and ok, he might have been focusing in on it, but his  riduur was just so attractive.

Certain the stew wouldn’t burn, he twisted and hefted his  riduur onto the counter, drawing his legs around Jango’s torso, leaning forwards to lick the juice of his lips.

“I love you, mesh’la.”

“I love you too, and I love your food.”

He reached for the spoon to serve his  riduur some of the sauce, relishing in the way his eyes fluttered with the taste.

Then Obi-Wan leant forwards, pressing their lips together, spice burning through the kiss.

Kriffing Hells, he loved his riduur and he loved his life.

.

.

.

Jango loved his  riduur , in every way. 

Loved being with him, loved talking to him, planning and organising and creating a stable clan and home for their people with him.

But their duties were  taxing .

Which is probably why his beloved was falling asleep on his shoulder in the middle of the meeting with their Al’verde.

It was adorable.

To be fair to him, he’d come home tired.  Exhausted .

He'd been gone for three weeks, on an awfully long and dangerous mission dismantling a small child  trafficking ring, and on returning to Coruscant he’d checked in and reported in the Temple, then come home to them.

But he’d looked exhausted from the second he’d made his way into Little  Keldabe , that exhausted look in his eyes even when they brightened on seeing him, melting away just a little in his embrace. People mocked romance a little in Mandalorian society, but not in a serious way. No-one begrudged affection displayed publicly, in fact, he’d been told by his advisors that people seeing them strong and in love was helping their people and doing them all a service.

Even if it meant their clearly exhausted  Rid’alor was drifting into dreamland on their Alor’s shoulder in a meeting.

He adored his sleepy riduur.

Far more than he wanted to be talking about affairs of state. 

Kriff , what he wouldn’t give to fall asleep in one of these meeting and still be seen as brave and strong.

After all, their  Rid’alor had just taken down a group of  demagolka basically single  handed . 

He deserved sleep.

Jango was happy to be a human pillow for his  mesh’la , kotyc riduur.

.

.

.

Jango was pretty much certain Obi looked better in his clothes than he looked in Obi’s.

Still, his room was cold and the only thing he could reach was Obi’s cloak.

Ugh, younger Jango would be disgusted to wear  Jetii clothing.

Then again younger Jango wouldn’t have a  Jetii in his bed or wearing his vambrace.

He stumbled to the fresher in the dark, not wanting to wake himself too much by turning on the lights.

It actually took him the distance of the bed to the door to question why Obi’s cloak was in their room, because Obi was back at the Temple for the night.

On the way back to the bed he instead took a detour to the window, knowing that from it he had a direct view to the Temple.

Coruscant hummed, a city that never slept, where it sometimes felt the darkness never even touched, so different from Concord Dawn’s rural nights or  Keldabe’s still busy but quiet and dark ones.

He wrapped the cloak a little tighter and inhaled the scents of incense and scented candles and bitter teas and faint blaster smoke that constantly attached themselves to Obi’s clothes.

He was still almost certain it didn’t suit him.

Not the way his tunics sat slightly too large on Obi’s shoulders, sagging off them a little and exposing his neck and collar, and when combined with mussed hair and lidded eyes gave Jango a view no-one else would ever see. His  mesh’la sleepy  cyar’ika .

The most beautiful sight in all the galaxy.

.

.

.

Kriffing hells, Myles thought, Jango was so gone. 

Sappy and romantic and idiots.

He muffled his snort; it wasn’t something he’d ever have considered he would be saying about Jango before Galidraan.

Of course, Jango wasn’t the same person he’d been then, slavery and death and, well, everything that had happened, it had changed him.

But it had also given him a riduur. 

A  riduur .

A Jetii Riduur.

Ha, he’d have never believed it.

But then, he’d never have imagined seeing Jango curled up in bed in another’s arms looking content and safe and happy, unconsciously nuzzling into his  riduur’s hair.

Like a sap.

Still, there was a situation and they needed both Alor and Rid’Alor.

So they’d have to stop being sappy and wake up and get up.

He was somewhat amazed that they were still asleep, even with him in the room, but then again, Little  Keldabe , their home here, was supposed to be the safest place on the planet, and Myles was in charge of making sure it stayed that way, which he supposed showed a huge amount of trust in him. Then again, their  Rid’Alor was Jetiise, he could feel other people, which meant even asleep he probably knew who was in the room and whether they could be trusted, and Jango was either working off of that same feeling from his riduur unconsciously, or awake and waiting for Myles to make a move.

“Myles what the  hells do you want?”

Awake and waiting it was.

“Something’s come up, we need you.”

“...Fine.”

Jango shifted gently, doing his best to de-snag himself from his  riduur , to let him sleep. The same reason he’d kept his voice low and careful.

“Jango, this might need both of you.”

The look on Jango’s face was simultaneously crushing and absolutely something he wanted to mock.

“He needs sleep.” 

“Of course, but we have a  Rid’alor for a reason.”

“Because I married someone, that’s your reason.”

“Well tradition gave the  Rid’alor jobs to do.”

“I'm actually not sure I can get out of his grip without waking him anyway.”

Myles did laugh at that, and Jango glared a little, and Obi-Wan stirred.

Jango glared some more.

Oops.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a:  
> riduur- spouse  
> Jetiise- Jedi (plural)  
> cyar'ika- sweetheart  
> mesh'la- beautiful  
> l'verde- commanders  
> Mand'alor- Sole Leader  
> Alor- Sole Leader  
> Rid'Alor- spouse of the sole leader  
> riduurok- marriage oath, incredibly honoured and important.  
> Ka'ra- stars/ ancient mythical council of elders  
> Tingilar- spicy mandalorian stew  
> Buire-parents  
> Jas'Buir- Parent Jaster  
> demagolka- child abusers/war criminals/ evil person (one of the worst insults).  
> kotyc- strong  
> Jetii- Jedi (singular)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.  
> My Tumblr is One_Real_Imonkey.  
> I am open for prompts for ideas in this AU.  
> Please R+R.


End file.
